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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678803">The Ten Steps of (Gradual) Escalation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixree/pseuds/Trixree'>Trixree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventually Resolved Sexual Tension, First Time, I guess this technically counts as gay chicken, M/M, Sanji is a Size Queen, Sanji is deep in denial, Size Kink, the crew is long suffering, truly so much dirty talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:41:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixree/pseuds/Trixree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, we’re gonna play it like that, huh, Cook?” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah. We’re gonna play it like that,” Sanji returns, despite having absolutely no fucking clue what Zoro could possibly mean by that. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Or: The Great Game of Gay Chicken Aboard the Thousand Sunny</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>398</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story will go up in 11 installments: a prologue and 10 steps! Each chapter is episodic and much shorter than what I usually do, but it works better for the format of the story in my opinion. </p>
<p>Endless thanks to my beta, Starrypier, for the inspiration for this fic. It's been sitting in my drive since June and I figured it's about time I got around to it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Things first... </span>
  <em>
    <span>escalate</span>
  </em>
  <span> on a warm and unremarkable Sunday morning aboard the Thousand Sunny. Breakfast has just wrapped up a scant half-hour ago and, unfortunately, serving pancakes with syrup has turned out to be a</span>
  <em>
    <span> dire</span>
  </em>
  <span> mistake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Half of the kitchen is coated in a sticky sheen of maple syrup, courtesy of Luffy and Usopp’s wholly unprompted (and extremely uncalled for) food-fight. The only reason the other half of the kitchen is not blanketed in the substance is that Sanji has already seen to it that Usopp and Luffy </span>
  <em>
    <span>clean up their own fucking mess—</span>
  </em>
  <span>which they are reluctantly doing (and doing while making their extreme displeasure known.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tired of the cloying smell of maple, the bitching, and the uncomfortable tackiness of his syrup-splattered suit on his skin, Sanji begins to untie his apron.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you shitty bastards let up for one minute, do you hear me?” Sanji threatens, brandishing it like a cattle-prod at the two men. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Saaaaannjiii,” Luffy whines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clean it all and do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>well </span>
  </em>
  <span>or you’ll be eating vegetarian for the next two weeks, I swear it. You too, Usopp.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes the door decisively on their complaints and heads below deck for a much needed shower. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bathroom is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bathroom is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much </span>
  </em>
  <span>not empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi!” Zoro shouts, but Sanji is </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely </span>
  </em>
  <span>paying attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoro is hunched over the bathroom counter, one arm braced over the sink, looking sweaty and intense, his pants bunched up around his thighs. But this is not the shocker, here. Zoro often leans against random surfaces—the lazy fuck—and he always looks vaguely intense with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>one eye </span>
  </em>
  <span>and his general brutishness. Not even the state of undress is very surprising, considering that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Franky </span>
  </em>
  <span>is aboard this ship. No, the great unforgivable shocker of it all is the occupation of Zoro’s free-hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Namely, furiously jerking off an </span>
  <em>
    <span>obscenely </span>
  </em>
  <span>large cock.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji hisses around an unlit cigarette. His fists clench and unclench subconsciously at his sides. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck? Why the fuck? How the fuck? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoro pulls his pants up the rest of the way, expression dark and charged. “What the fuck is your </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem, </span>
  </em>
  <span>curlicue?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji’s brain supplies. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are my problem. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He answers Zoro with a swift and brutal kick to the other man’s shin, hard enough to fracture the bone of a lesser man. Unarmed, Zoro hops away comically on one leg, growling like an angry dog. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You walked in on </span>
  <em>
    <span>me!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro shouts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lock </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>door </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason</span>
  </em>
  <span><em>!”</em> Sanji yells right back, gearing up for another shot at the marimo </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard idiot (apparently horse-cocked) fucking mother fucker. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like you’ve never seen it before!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>AND THAT WAS ONE TOO MANY TIMES!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji hisses. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And it wasn’t like you were actively jerking-off then, </span>
  </em>
  <span>goes completely unsaid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Zoro barks out a laugh, his face twisting into a mocking sneer. "You mad my dick is bigger than yours, curly brow?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sanji’s higher brain function immediately vacates the premises. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(All systems are </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> offline.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well it’s obscene! That’s just,” Sanji sputters, “it’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely </span>
  </em>
  <span>too much dick!” It is at this point that Sanji belatedly realizes that he sounds, to put it frankly, absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>hysterical.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, obviously, he finds it prudent to add in a shrieking falsetto, “NO ONE CAN POSSIBLY WORK WITH THAT MUCH DICK!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"HAH! Not with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>attitude." Zoro taunts. After a moment—a moment in which Zoro looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>unnecessarily smug, Sanji might add—he smirks at him and says, “Why don’t you come over here and find out exactly how I work with it?”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck does that mean?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji’s brain hisses. Part of him is </span>
  <em>
    <span>burning </span>
  </em>
  <span>to ask. He can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly mean—? He’s a ridiculous marimo bastard but he’s not…? IS he? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In your </span>
  <em>
    <span>dreams!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji screams in a very-manly way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though Sanji lands a diable-jambe kick straight to the marimo’s chest, the bastard has the audacity to laugh the whole way out of the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(This is where it begins, but it is by no means where it ends.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Step One: Inappropriate Innuendo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things are… weird, after The Incident.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Things are… </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after The Incident. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The usual banter they exchange is undercut by a generally intolerable air of </span>
  <em>
    <span>smugness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Needless to say, the only thing more infuriating than said smugness is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cause</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Zoro’s smugness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sanji wakes the other man from a nap with a none-too-gentle kick to the shin, Zoro cracks his single eye open and </span>
  <em>
    <span>smirks</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This is the smirk of a man that knows his dick is bigger than yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This smirk is untouchable by mere insult or injury. This smirk is the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>infuriating fucking thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Sanji’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire goddamn life. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sanji curses him out with a creative plethora of extremely colorful language, Zoro just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>looks </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>smirks. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This is the smirk of a man that </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>know that his dick is bigger than yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they spar, Zoro meets and matches and counters and even </span>
  <em>
    <span>takes </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji’s hits, all while </span>
  <em>
    <span>smirking </span>
  </em>
  <span>around the hilt of that goddamn sword. This is the smirk of a man that cannot be cowed, for he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>know that his dick is </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And, try as he might, Sanji can’t stop thinking about that monumental failure of a comeback.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why don’t you come over here and find out exactly how I work with it?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>says </span>
  </em>
  <span>that? Who just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>says </span>
  </em>
  <span>something like that? It infuriates Sanji just as much as it absolutely fucking baffles him. And, for all that it baffles him, the exchange stubbornly sticks around at the forefront of his mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>more than it should. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He does not need to spend fifty-percent of his day thinking about Zoro’s entirely unnecessarily large dick. Absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.) </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It is because the Incident remains so firmly stuck in his mind that Sanji says what he says on a bright and sunny afternoon only two days later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You call that folded?” he hisses, aiming a weak kick to Zoro’s shins. He, Usopp, and Zoro have spent the better part of the afternoon occupied with the crew’s laundry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually, laundry is a task Sanji relishes in shouldering single-handedly. It’s always the highlight of his week to make the lives of his lovely ladies easier by taking the chore off of their delicate hands and besides, if Sanji </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>insist on doing it, Luffy and Zoro both would wear the same stinking shirt until it positively started to grow fungus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s a gorgeous day today, one that’s neither too hot nor too cold. Each gust of wind that rolls off the ocean is cooling enough to counteract the pleasurable warmth of the sun, leaving the whole deck of the Sunny cradled in a beautiful balance. So when Sanji had carried the basket of clean clothes to the upper deck to be folded in the sunshine, Usopp had volunteered his help and Sanji had seen a perfect opportunity to get back at the moss-head for ruining his entire life with the cursed knowledge of the man’s insanely disproportionate dick size. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s smaller now, isn’t it?” the Marimo in question gripes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you think folding is? Making clothes smaller?” Usopp asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoro looks at him blankly. “Is it not?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People should write books on how your brain works,” Sanji drawls, setting a perfectly folded shirt into his basket of other perfectly-folded items. “‘Booze is a substitute for water.’ ‘Roads move when you’re not looking’. ‘Folding is just making clothes smaller’. ‘Swords go in the mouth’.” And he’s talking and not really thinking about it when he adds, “And why do you fight with three damn swords, anyway? I'll bet money you just want </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> in your mouth."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A calm, cooling wind rises off of the sea and sends the items tacked up on the clothesline swaying peacefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why, are you gonna put something there?" Zoro retorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usopp promptly chokes on nothing but air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Abort mission, abort mission! </em>his better-sense is screaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pervert-moss! I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, please. You wanna talk oral fixation? You look like you were made for sucking dick, cook,” Zoro says and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sanji—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sanji no longer has control of this situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I’m just gonna—</span>
  <em>
    <span>go,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Usopp squeaks, slowly tip-toeing towards the stairs, sweating bullets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The resulting brawl dirties half the clean laundry and incurs one very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> loud lecture from the effervescent Nami-swan.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Step Two: Suggestive Suggestions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the early hours of the next morning, long before any other members of the crew have begun to stir, Sanji sips a perfectly crafted cappuccino and smokes a cigarette while watching the sunrise. He cherishes these rare, quiet moments on a ship of loud, chaotic people. Perhaps analogous to Zoro’s practice of meditation, these precious hours of solitude serve to keep him grounded. Collected. Capable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why it is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn </span>
  </em>
  <span>irritating that he can’t stop thinking about the newly-deranged Moss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all the years they’ve known each other, Zoro has </span>
  <em>
    <span>never once </span>
  </em>
  <span>expressed any interest in sex. He’s never so much as looked at a lady, and Sanji would know, because he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking at ladies. Besides the occasional (unfortunate) run-ins with the other man’s masturbatory practices (which, for their part, don’t seem to happen with nearly as much frequency as do the masturbatory practices of their other male shipmates) Zoro has never once even acknowledged that his dick is </span>
  <em>
    <span>there. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marimo” and “libido” were wholly incompatible words mere days ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, Zoro is </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying things </span>
  </em>
  <span>that suggest he’s not as asexual as Sanji had previously assumed. In fact, in any other circumstance, if they were anybody other than themselves, Sanji would say Zoro is using </span>
  <em>
    <span>come-ons! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>preposterous. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You wanna talk oral fixation? You look like you were made for sucking dick, cook,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro had said with such a straight face that Sanji had almost combusted on the spot. Who even taught that idiot the word “fixation”? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the easy, natural way he had said, “sucking dick”, it makes one wonder… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a strangled shout, Sanji throws his cigarette overboard. It is not nearly as satisfying as he would have hoped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Zoro walks in the kitchen for breakfast mere hours later and announces, “It smells weird in here,” Sanji’s response comes as easy and as bitter as anything between them usually is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh why don’t you go stick that sword in your ass, you horny piece of shit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(At the table, Brook </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoro, for his part, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stares </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him. He snatches a perfect slice of cantaloupe right out of the bowl Sanji is holding and pops it in his mouth. They stare each other down with enough venom to curdle milk while Zoro chews. Usopp can be heard warning the others of literal sparks shooting from their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a disgusted fascination, Sanji watches Zoro swallow. “So, we’re gonna play it like that, huh, Cook?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. We’re gonna play it like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji returns, despite having absolutely no fucking clue what he could possibly mean by that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hip-checks him </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he walks past with the bowl of fruit.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Unbeknownst to Sanji, battlelines have been drawn and a war is on. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Step Three: Pet Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS GIVE ME LIFE, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kitchen is heavy with the smell of garlic. It is so strong and oppressive, in fact, that Sanji already knows he’ll be smelling it on his hands for days no matter how much he scrubs at his skin. The consequences of cooking with garlic without food-handler's gloves never fails to put him in a foul mood. The lingering scent is absolutely bound to fuck with his carefully-honed cook’s senses for the next handful of meals. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His only consolation is how absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>phenomenal</span>
  </em>
  <span> this garlic parmesan bread is going to be. Surely, the ladies will want to thank him for his exceptional work in a novel, intimate fashion— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The galley door swings open with the oafish gait of a sweat-reeking Marimo fresh from that monstrous exercise in masochism that he calls “</span>
  <span>training</span>
  <span>”. Sanji wrinkles his nose in greeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Curly. Water,” Zoro grunts, brutish as always. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And oddly, Sanji is relieved that things between them appear normal, for any given sense of the word, after Zoro’s odd declaration in the kitchen just earlier this morning. But, under that relief, Sanji is also </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed </span>
  </em>
  <span>because Zoro is already so </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn weird, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>too far </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him to start reminding Sanji—quite uncomfortably—that there exists some semblance of sexuality under all that stubborn idiocy and muscle.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is why he slams his palms down flat on the counter and snaps, “What is your goddamn aversion to using my fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he rounds on him, boiling mad in under three seconds with practically zero effort—a new personal record. “‘Curly’-this, ‘Spiral-brow’-that… Is ‘please, can I get some water, Sanji’ so fucking hard for you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoro snorts and he opens his mouth to say… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>before a different, much more lethal expression crosses his face and that open mouthed retort turns into a slow, devilish smirk that reads like blaring klaxon sirens to Sanji’s most basic survival instincts: </span>
  <em>
    <span>DANGER! GET THE FUCK OUT! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh—” Sanji manages to eek out as Zoro starts encroaching on his personal space. He raises a foot and shifts his balance, prepared to strike, but that’s where Zoro stops. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>can I have some water, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sanji?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he asks, voice low and smooth as velvet, practically seductive and so utterly <em>alien </em>coming out of <em>Zoro</em> that Sanji freezes in shock. An expression of pure shit-eating smugness blooms on Zoro's face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Operating on instinct alone, Sanji stomps on the idiot’s toes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It has the desired effect of getting Zoro to </span>
  <em>
    <span>back the hell off </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he hops away on one foot, hissing through his teeth like an angry cat, and it gives Sanji enough space to realize, startlingly, that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>missing something. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On any other day, the challenge to use his name would have resulted in a massive fight—one significant enough to send Franky after their asses, surely. But instead, Zoro just… didn’t engage. Or… he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but almost like he was engaging in a completely different fight altogether, one that Sanji isn’t privy to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So, we’re gonna play it like that, huh Cook? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro had said just this morning. It takes Sanji a moment or two longer than it should for him to remember what he had said to instigate that particularly odd comment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I called him a horny piece of shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji realizes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like the floor has opened up beneath him, Sanji feels completely caught-out. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>reasonable explanation is that Zoro—thick as his skull may be—realized just how uncomfortable the bathroom incident made Sanji and now he’s weaponizing it, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro must think he’s found Sanji’s weak spot: that Sanji’s uncomfortable with </span>
  <em>
    <span>sex </span>
  </em>
  <span>or with seduction—not that it’s the <em>sheer enormity</em> of Zoro’s dick that has him reeling, because really, how does he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>walk </span>
  </em>
  <span>with that thing between his legs?—and ever the swordsman, he’s pursuing it ruthlessly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jokes on him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji thinks, pouring a pitcher of chilled lemon water as viciously as he possibly can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sets the glass gently down on the island countertop, nudging it near Zoro’s hand as he finally stops jumping around like a child that stubbed their toe. Sanji waits patiently for Zoro to meet his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he does, Sanji smirks, does his absolute best not to laugh, and says, “Go ahead, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The marimo’s single functioning eye practically doubles in size. Sanji has to fight to swallow the laugh that threatens to burst out of him. Quickly, that piercing eye narrows again into what Zoro must </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a fierce glare, despite it actually looking quite childish to Sanji. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>babe.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sanji nearly double-takes at the escalation, but refuses to let it show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>honey pie.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a growl, Zoro turns on his heel, snatching up the glass and stomping out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him in punctuation of his rage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two can play at this game, asshole. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The battle continues on into dinner. Sanji saves the bastard's plate for last, Zoro’s keen stare tracking him all across the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s mine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro nearly shouts, and Sanji’s surprised he could even articulate the words for how smugly he’s smiling. Really, it's a wonder he was intelligible at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence that follows is deafening, up until the moment where Usopp starts choking rather violently on his water and Robin has to sprout a couple extra hands to help him clear his windpipe. Hell, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luffy </span>
  </em>
  <span>froze mid-chew, glancing between Sanji and Zoro like this is the most interesting thing to happen all day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Returning the smirk that’s frankly getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty fucking old</span>
  </em>
  <span>  at this point, </span>
  <span>Sanji carefully lays Zoro’s plate down in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you are, sweetheart,” he says, watching with pure glee as Zoro realizes that all the food on his plate has been arranged carefully into the shape of exactly that: a heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoro forces a smile and it looks like a death-threat. “Gee," he deadpans through a clenched jaw, "Thanks, <em>snookums</em>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime, <em>pumpkin,</em>” he hisses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I stroke out? Nami? Did I die?” Usopp stage-whispers. “Am I dead right now? Because that’s the only explanation I have.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, stop bothering Nami-swan and let her eat her dinner,” Sanji warns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usopp turns a significant look on him. “How do I know you’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sanji and not some freaky clone come to take his place and kill us all?” Somehow, Brook manages to pale at the thought, despite having no skin or blood. Robin hides a chuckle behind her wine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not getting involved,” Nami says, mostly to herself. “I am going to pretend that this is not happening.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need to be a clone to kill you, Usopp,” Sanji snaps, effectively killing the conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, when Zoro grunts out a non-verbal request for the table salt and Sanji passes it over with a, “here you are, <em>dearest</em>”, Usopp makes a sound not unlike a mouse getting stepped on but thankfully no one else comments. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, things continue in the same manner. Their usual insults and barbs are replaced with passive-aggressive “darling”s and “babe”s—especially on Zoro’s end, as he seems to run out of new affectionate things to call Sanji by lunchtime and resorts to the same few names over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a bizarre twist of psychological association, a prominent vein in Sanji’s forehead has started to twitch in barely-suppressed rage every time he hears the word “honey”. Hell, Brook asked for some with his morning tea and Sanji had almost kicked him overboard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Watch out, mon amour,” Sanji says as he walks past the muscle-head to deliver afternoon drinks to the ladies, meaning: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will break your stupid teeth in if you get in my way right now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, honey,” Zoro says when Sanji calls him in for lunch, meaning: </span>
  <em>
    <span>it is my life’s mission to make you as miserable as possible. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the crew continues to spectate in states of wry amusement or spectacularly horrified awe. Chopper has taken to carrying around a first-aid with him at all times, clearly anticipating a blood bath to break out at any moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, </span>
  <em>
    <span>babe,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zoro growls as Sanji trips half-exhausted towards his hammock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dream of me, sugar-lump,” he returns meaning: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will put razor blades in your breakfast.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Obligatory link to my <a href="https://trixree.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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